No Regrets
by CaliGirlMon
Summary: A mother's regret, a mother's love. I should have listened to Alice that night. I should have put on my best Sunday dress, curled my hair, and plastered my face with makeup. Maybe then I would have avoided the tsunami of pain that was going to crash into my life years later. But...can you really regret something—someone, when they gave you the reason for your existence?


_My entry for the Lyrics to Life Contest_

**Beta**: Daphodill

**Pre-reader**: ClancyJane

**Yours to Hold** - Brett Young

watch?v=DVzDXZHhUNg&feature=

**Disclaimer**: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

_~oo0oo~_

**_February 2005_**

"Bella! Will ya hurry the hell up!"

"Alice, will you calm the fuck down! The bar ain't closing until two in the morning," I yell from my bedroom.

Good lord this woman is the most impatient, most annoying little human being I've ever loved. I can't even get dressed in peace.

"I know that, you smart ass! But James is waiting for me, he's already there. Bella, will you just hurry, please?" Alice whines, always so eager to hook me up with one of her boyfriend's buddies. They're blissfully happy, I get it, and I'm happy for them, but I'm not looking for any of that right now. I can't even count how many of their so-called "oh we're just meeting up with some people, you should come" were really blind dates.

I want to wring Alice's tiny neck because tonight has "set-up" written all over it. All I know is if he's stupid like my last "not blind date", Tyler, ...Trevor, … whatever, he'd better damn well be hot.

"All right … all right, I'm coming." I roll my eyes at her dramatics as I look at myself in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of my bedroom door. I smirk at my reflection—I look halfway decent. Never one for flashiness, or tons of makeup, I opt for a pair of snug jeans and a top that accentuates the girls. With my kick-ass boots on, I'm good to go.

"Really? Really, B?" Alice says in a huff as I walk out the bedroom. "Is that what you're wearing?"

I don't know why she acts so surprised; I always wear jeans and cowboy boots. "Yes, this is what I'm wearing?" I refuse to allow Alice to dictate what I wear tonight. We're just meeting up at a bar anyway, not a club. Who am I trying to impress? No one, that's who. "You bitching at me isn't helping us leave any sooner. I'm ready, let's go!"

"I swear, you're never gonna find a husband lookin' like that all the damn time," Alice says as she follows me out the door. Alice has always had a plan…a plan that apparently involves me as well. "We're best friends, Bella. If I don't do things with you, then who will I do them with?"

"Never said I was lookin' for one either."

Alice and I just turned twenty-six, and according to "the plan", we're one year behind schedule. We should have been married by twenty-five, and each have one child on the way by now.

Alice throws her hands in the air, apparently frustrated with my lack of concern in finding a husband. "You have to always be ready—look your best all the time. Ya never know when you'll run into Mr. Right."

"Well, Ali, if he's Mr. Right, then he'll love me in my jeans and boots." I point out as we're walking down my apartment stairs.

Rolling her eyes, she huffs. "Whatever. You go ahead and dress like a hobo. See what kinda man you attract."

_~oo0oo~_

I should have listened to Alice that night. I should have put on my best Sunday dress, curled my hair, and plastered my face with makeup. Maybe then I would have avoided meeting Jasper Whitlock.

_~oo0oo~_

**_April 2006_**

Breathe Bella … just breathe. "I can do this—I love him, he loves me."

Standing here looking at myself in the mirror, mere moments away from marrying the father of my unborn child, I can't help but be terrified. Not because marriage is scary, or because I'm going to be a mother in two months. No. I worry if I am making the right decision. Did we rush into this marriage because I got pregnant?

How did I get here? Everything happened so fast. This was not what I envisioned myself doing a year ago. I didn't even want a serious relationship back then.

"Knock, knock." Alice peeks her head in. "You ready? Bella, they're asking for you."

"Yeah, … just give me a sec."

Alice closes the door and comes to stand behind me. She places her head on my shoulder and rests her hands on my rounding belly. Staring at each other in the mirror, I don't have to say a word—she can read me like a book.

"What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"

"I'm terrified …" My lip trembles, "I'm scared I'm making a mistake. Getting married for the wrong reason," I whisper as a tear slides down my cheek.

"Do you love, Jasper?"

"I do. He's been wonderful." The smile that lights up my face is proof enough. The last person I expected to find that night at the bar was my future husband. I never wanted to get married, that was not in my plan. Hell, I never thought I'd be having a child before thirty.

"You know, not all marriages are doomed, honey. You're not your parents. Your relationship with Jasper is nothing like theirs."

"You're right …" I exhale a cleansing breath. I know not all marriages are like my parents. Not all men are like my father. I'm happy with Jasper, I deserve to be loved. Jasper won't leave me like he did.

"Okay, let's do this."

.

.

.

Lily Victoria Whitlock is born just two months after Jasper and I married. Lily looks so much like her daddy: porcelain skin, a mop of sandy blonde hair, and the most gorgeous blue eyes I've ever seen.

When we found out I was pregnant, my first thought was of my mother, the most devout Catholic woman I've ever met, was going to die of shame.

She'd probably pray the rosary for the rest of my life in order to save my soul from eternal damnation for having a child out of wedlock. So, when Jasper asked me to marry him, and said he wanted to provide a happy home for our child, I agreed. This is what a father should do—just like my father—provide a happy home for his family, right?

Lily has her daddy wrapped around her little finger. Jasper's a wonderful father, an excellent provider…being an attentive husband, though, is something I need to get used to. I'm not used to being taken care of by a man. Being fussed over by Jasper made me feel uncomfortable in the beginning.

I felt smothered.

"Bella, you need to let Jasper take care of you," Alice says as she places a cup of warm tea in front of me. "Just because you allow someone to care for you, doesn't mean you're becoming dependent, honey, that's what a husband's suppose to do."

"I know Ali, I'm trying. It's just hard for me." I sigh, looking at my best friend of almost twenty years; if anyone knows me, it's Alice. She knew all about the life my mother lived with my father, all his betrayals. She's the one I would run to when things got bad at home. She's the one I squealed and gushed my heart out with when I first fell in love. Hers is the shoulder I cried on when I got my heart broken the first time.

I promised myself I wouldn't become dependent on a man. No matter what life threw at me, I would always come out standing on my own two feet in the end.

"Just let him be a husband. Let him love you, babe. You deserve to be loved."

_~oo0oo~_

**_November 2008_**

Jasper and I had agreed we we weren't ready for another child; he was focusing on his career and I had just been hired on as an accountant with the District Attorney's Office. Another child would definitely throw a wrench in our career plans, not to mention double our daycare expenses, which we could hardly afford.

So, imagine our surprise when a few months ago I made a doctor's appointment thinking I had vertigo, but instead I'm told I'm pregnant.

"Excuse me?" Somebody's fucked up, royally. Jasper and I agreed to wait. We can hardly afford the one kid we do have. Yeah, she'd better check that chart again because I am not the one.

"I think you have the wrong patient. I can't be pregnant, I have an IUD!" My voice rising as bile slowly crept up.

I chose the IUD because of its low failure rates. I mean, everything has a percentage of error, but I was promised it was so small—like one percent or something—the next best thing to having my tubes tied. Well, that one percent the doctors gloss over and don't really talk about...that would be me.

"Ali … ohmygod," I cry into the phone.

"What! what's wrong?" Alice ask. "Bella, you're scaring me. Answer me. Is it Lily?"

"No, she's fine … I'm pregnant." A fresh round of tears stream down my face as I say that last word.

"Is that why you're crying? Shit, Bella, you almost gave me a heart attack!"

My pregnancy is high-risk since the doctors weren't able to remove the IUD: no strenuous activity, and frequent doctor visits. I found myself in the emergency room at eleven weeks. Jasper and I were lying in bed when I felt a gush of warmth between my legs. Jumping up, Jasper thought I peed the bed. When I pulled the covers back, it wasn't pee. It was blood—and lots of it.

We rushed to the hospital, believing I was miscarrying. My nerves were a wreck. Just when we had gotten used to the idea of another baby, we were losing it. This was unreal. Jasper just sat and held my hand until he was forced to drop Lily at Alice's, then I was alone and the tears and prayers came.

When the bleeding finally stopped, the doctors explained that the baby was still where he should be. The IUD moved and caused the bleeding. But I was put on even stricter rules. The doctor put me on part-time work and lots of bed rest. I could hardly lift my daughter, or carry a sack of groceries up to our apartment.

After that, things changed.

Being five months pregnant with my second child should be a happy time for my family, only it isn't. It's been stressful. I knew having another child wasn't what Jasper and I wanted at first, our circumstances aren't ideal. We live in an apartment—we're cramped as it is with just Lily.

Jasper's been working toward a promotion at work, a position that would allow us to achieve the goals he's set. Jasper's plan was to save some money and buy our family a home. All that's been placed on hold, now that I only work three days a week. Our finances have been tight, which has Jasper stressed out and me feeling guilty—useless.

I've noticed a change in my husband. He's been distant about a month now. When I question him about it, he says he's been busy at work with the late night and weekend meetings. He hasn't touched me since the bleeding incident, claiming he doesn't want to stress my body—scared that having sex will cause more bleeding. He says that I should just concentrate on the baby.

"What's so different in this pregnancy? When I was pregnant with Lily, we had sex all the time?" Is he not attracted to me anymore, am I just too fat? I know I'm bigger than I was with Lily, but … does he have someone else? No … Jasper would never do that to me, to us—his family.

"You're hardly home anymore. You're always at work, I miss you." That word sounds so foreign coming out of my mouth, but the second I say it, I realize how much I do miss my husband. I miss his touches, his kisses. I miss our late night talks, watching TV with him, and having him run his hand through my hair.

"You know damn well what the difference is, Bella." He looks at me with annoyance etched across his face. "I'm working my ass off here, and this baby is coming in a few months. How do you expect to pay for everything the baby's gonna need?"

The look on my husbands face is like a punch in the gut. Jasper's never looked at me that way—his eyes clearly show deep resentment. His words wash over me, chilling me to my core. I knew this would happen eventually. I knew my marriage wouldn't be a bed of roses all the time. I just never expected that having another child would be the cause…the change in my husband.

"What'd you expect me to do, Jasper?" I ask as I swallow the lump in my throat. "Did you want me to have an abortion, is that it! This didn't fit into your plan. God forbid we deviate from, what do you call it? Oh that's right … "The Whitlock Master Plan."

"Don't you dare fucking make me out to be the bad guy." Jasper's palm slam down on the dining room table, giving me a pointed look. "What's so wrong with having a plan, huh?" He snarls. "That's what responsible adults do, Bella. We set goals in life."

"We had no control over this, Jasper! I don't know what else I can say to make it better. I didn't get pregnant on purpose—just to ruin your little plan—if that's what you're thinking."

"Jesus christ! Are you listening to me? We can't afford another child."

.

.

.

Having an early doctor's appointment, I decide to take the rest of my workday off. My doctor's appointment is wonderful. I'm so excited with the news I received, that I decide to stop and surprise Jasper at work. Maybe we can go out to lunch and celebrate. Only he wasn't at work—the receptionist said he never came in, that he had called in sick.

Driving home, my mind races. Is Jasper really sick? Does he have Lily? Why hasn't he called? As I pull up into our apartment complex, I notice his car in his parking spot. Hurrying out the car and making my way up to our apartment.

"Jasper, babe? Are you okay?" I ask as I close the door. I hear grunts coming from down the hall.

Maybe he _is_ sick?

Walking to the hall bathroom. "Jasper …" I push the door open but the bathroom is empty.

The grunts are coming from our bedroom. Oh great, I hope he's at least throwing up in a trash can. Preparing myself to find a mess in our bedroom, I gently push the door open.

What I see is not something I was in any way prepared for.

The grunts I heard weren't those of a man who's sick. They're coming from a man who's fucking another woman—in our bed—in my bed.

As I pushed the door open, Jaspers eyes fall to mine. He has some woman's breasts in his hands and she's riding him. Her head is thrown back in full-blown pleasure.

"Oh my God …" I clasp a hand over my mouth. Standing there, I stare—I can't move.

I should have known…is this why he's been so distant? Not wanting to touch me? I should have paid attention to the signs. I knew the signs—I lived with the signs everyday of my childhood.

"Bella?" Jasper asks, confusion and shock evident in his voice. "Bella, baby …" he begins to say, pushing the woman off him.

I turn and walk out the bedroom.

"Wait!"

"For what, Jasper, huh?" I stop and face him. "What am I waiting for? For you to make up an excuse? To try and convince me that what I saw I misunderstood!"

"Please …"

"NO!" I step closer to him, slapping him across the cheek. "You son of a bitch. I can't believe you did this. I thought you were sick." I laugh humorlessly. "God, how very stupid of me. Here I was planning on giving you some good news, only I was the one being informed."

"No, please, lets just talk about this. Please!" Jasper reaches out to me, trying to hold my hand.

"I have nothing to talk to you about, Jasper. You were loud and clear in there." I look behind him in the direction of what used to be my bedroom. "I'm done. There is no going back for me. I will not forgive you for that," I say as I turn and open the door.

"The news I was so happy to tell you about—it's a boy."

As I walk out my home, I think back on the last two years of my marriage. Despite it being the twenty-first century, we did feel the need for a shotgun wedding. We're great parents, but just so-so partners. Jasper tried hard to make me happy, but, it was all superficial with presents and pretty words, no depth or emotion behind them. I knew he regretted me in the way he kissed me, the way he touched me. I just never wanted to see it. I can't say I acted much better, though. I knew it was a mistake from the beginning, but I still went through with it. I never fully gave myself to him, never truly opened up. Maybe I kept a part a myself distant, not fully engaged in my marriage so it wouldn't hurt so much when it all fell apart. We were doomed from the start, and I knew it—I just never thought Jasper was capable of such betrayal.

.

.

.

It's been two months since that dreadful day. Jasper has begged me to take him back, and apologized profusely about what he did. But I refuse to be my mother—I refuse to look away, turn the other cheek. My mother's marriage to my father is a miserable one. Charles Swan was a womanizer and a drunk. He saw nothing wrong with having his cake and eating it too. He thought if he provided for his family, then what he did on the side was no one's business.

My mother lived her life never truly experiencing what it is to be loved—cherished—by a man.

"I take my vows very seriously," she said one day. "I promised to love your father through better or worse. Once you marry through the church and you promise yourself to a man, you can't take that back."

Even when things got extremely bad, so bad we would end up at my grandparents' house because she was afraid of him, she never left my father. She couldn't bear breaking up our family, wanting me to have the love of both parents in the home. Mom never understood that staying married, being miserable, and allowing me to witness the way my father disrespected her was worse than growing up in a broken home—what we had was the epitome of a broken home with all the lies and fake sentiment passing between my parents. Did mom think I wouldn't notice?

Some people may say I'm selfish, that I'm not a good mother because I walked away from my marriage. I hated the way I grew up and would be damned if I repeated that cycle with my children. No—my eyes are truly open.

I refuse to be my mother.

_~oo0oo~_

**_February 2009_**

Garrett Anthony Whitlock came into the world on February 10, 2009. Five and a half weeks early.

The instant the doctors put him in my arms, I fell head over heels in love with my boy. He's so quiet, sucking on his finger, while those beautiful grey eyes look up at me. He's my ray of sunshine in the black cloud that has been hovering over my life. Lily's so excited to have a little brother, she's smothered him in kisses and hugs.

Jasper's ecstatic to have a son, I can see it in the way he looks at Garrett. He cried when I placed him in his arms. I know he loves his kids. He's an amazing father; I would never take that away from him. No matter what he did— and me not taking him back—he never stepped away from his responsibilities with Lily.

.

.

.

Our divorce is finalized three months after Garrett's birth. The children live with me full-time, and Jasper has them every weekend.

_~oo0oo~_

**_September 2009_**

Life is good. I have my two beautiful angels. My baby girl is so full of life, so full of love. Just watching her puts a smile on my face every day. My Garrett-boy is such a happy baby, always sleeping through the night, and never fussy. When he sees me or his sister, his eyes light up. He glows in happiness.

These past few weeks, though, Garrett can't seem to shake this cold. I've had to miss quite a bit of work, taking him to doctors. He's been running a temperature, doesn't have an appetite, and wants to be held all the time. I have a doctor's appointment for him this afternoon. I hope they can finally give me an answer and my son will begin to get better.

.

.

.

All the test come back inconclusive. The doctors can't explain what's going on with Garrett: why his fever hasn't gone down, why he's not eating, why my son can't hold himself up anymore? He used to be able to sit up without help, he used to be able to crawl. He can't do that anymore. He cries quite a bit now. His cry is a cry of pain—my nerves are shot. I just don't know what I can do for him … a parent is supposed to keep their children safe. I feel helpless—I'm failing my son.

I want answers. Why is my baby boy suffering so much? What is happening with him?

_~oo0oo~_

**_October 2009_**

Alice has been a lifesaver, helping so much since my divorce and the health issues with Garrett. I would be completely lost without her.

She keeps Garrett for me while I'm at work. Alice married James six months after I married Jasper. Alice owns a boutique, and James owns his own construction company. After their twins were born, Alice and James decided that she would stay home with them: neither of them liking the idea of their children in daycare. Alice is like a sister. We've been inseparable since we were in kindergarten; if there's anyone I trust with my children, it's her. She doesn't mind at all having Garrett to fuss over. She says she misses having a baby in her arms. Her girls are two and very independent, so, needless to say, she relishes the fact that Garrett just wants to be held.

Garrett hasn't been having a very good week. His fever keeps spiking. We've been in the emergency room one night this week already, having fluids given to him through an IV.

While on my lunch break, I receive a call from Alice who is crying hysterically. She tells me Garrett has stopped breathing, that his body keeps shaking, and that he is being taken to the emergency room by ambulance. I honestly don't remember the drive to the hospital.

Running in to the ER in hysterics, I bang on the glass of the intake desk asking for my son.

"Bella …" someone calls to me from behind.

"Please, just tell me where my son is! Garrett Whitlock, he was brought in by ambulance. I need to see him!" I yell at the nurse.

"Bella … sweetheart, calm down." The person places a hand on my shoulder, trying to turn me toward them.

With anger boiling to the surface, I turn—ready to give this person a piece of my mind. All the air is sucked out of my lungs when I see the face before me.

"You!" I jab a finger into his chest. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I can't fucking believe this, this is the last thing I need. I can't deal with him right now.

"Please, let's not do this," he murmurs, trying to steer me away from the triage desk. I instantly recoil from his touch. I take a step back, eyes wide as I gaze into his, those beautiful green orbs that used to hold the secrets of the world. Eyes I used to be able to read like an open book. Only I can't read his expression now, but his tone—that condescending tone— I know it all too well.

"This is not a time for dramatics, your son just had a seizure for Christ's sake." He runs a hand through his hair. He's nervous. I know that tick, I know the instant his hand rakes his hair, he's nervous, he's found himself in a situation he can't control. And he hates not having control.

"I fucking know that. You don't think I know that?" A horrible sob escapes my chest. Turning my attention back to the nurse, I ask again. "Please, I need to get back there with my son."

"Ma'am, as soon as he's settled into a room, you'll be allowed back there."

The half hour I wait to see my son is the longest half hour of my life. I'm just thankful that someone's back there with him—that Alice was allowed to ride in the ambulance with him.

The company I'm keeping isn't making it easier on my nerves, though.

Edward Cullen …

What the hell is he doing here? Alice didn't mention anything to me about her older brother being back in town. It's been ten years since the last time Edward came home. Edward is three years older than Alice and I. He was always a pain in the ass: taking our toys when we were younger, trying to boss us around as we grew into teenage girls, never allowing us to speak to boys and scaring the few brave ones that attempted to speak to us.

When I was fifteen, Edward began acting differently with me. There were days I could have sworn he liked me, then he would say or do something to make me feel as if he couldn't even stand to even look at me.

Edward was very possessive—domineering—even as a teenage boy. I hated to be told what to do, it reminded me too much of how my father treated my mother. He wasn't my brother nor my keeper, so I always fought back. I never held my tongue. I always made sure to let him know how I felt.

All that changed one summer. I can't even begin to explain what happened. Edward came crashing into my heart like a tornado. He claimed every waking minute of my life. Everything happened so fast. I barely had time to breathe. He claimed my heart, only to leave just as quickly as he came.

I was so in love with him—his leaving completely devastated me. He didn't even bat an eye.

No apologies … nothing.

"I have a plan, Bella. I can't change it—I won't change it." Just like his sister, Edward always had a plan. He always talked about getting out of here when he graduated high school. Edward was a wonderful artist, drew the most amazing portraits. His ultimate goal was to graduate with a Bachelors in Art, and one day open his own tattoo shop, it fascinated him.

"That's the ultimate gift, having someone walk around with your art on their skin. It's permanent—your talent—your heart is on display for everyone to see," Edward would say.

We kept in in touch mainly through phone calls the first year after he left for college. When he did come home, we'd spend some time together. After that first year, the phones calls came less and less, and he didn't come home as often. Edward had moved on, followed his plan, and never looked back. .

It had been ten years since the last time I laid eyes on him. Last I knew about him was that he had opened his own tattoo shop in New York and had an on again-off again girlfriend. That was five years ago—since I last asked Alice about him—right before I met Jasper.

And now, he sits here in the emergency room, watching me lose my mind over my son. What in the world did I do to the universe to deserve all this shit that's being thrown at me?

_~oo0oo~_

**_November 2009_**

We've been home a week, after spending three weeks in the hospital with Garrett. We finally got answers to my son's condition. Devastating answers, but answers none the less. The doctors diagnosed Garrett with Krabbe Disease.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, Mrs. Whitlock―"

"It's Swan, not Whitlock," I interrupt the doctor. I can feel Jasper's heated glare as I correct him.

"What that means is: Krabbe disease is a rare, genetic, currently incurable, and ultimately terminal disorder. It is one of several known leukodystrophies—genetic diseases—that progressively destroys the white matter of the brain."

My ears begin to buzz. All I hear is "terminal disorder."

"In Krabbe disease," the doctor continues, "the enzyme essential for metabolizing several important compounds in the body is deficient. Therefore, substances, which should be broken down and naturally released from the body, start to accumulate. This toxic build-up damages the central nervous system, destroying the myelin sheath, which insulates the nerves. The destruction of the myelin sheath, called demyelination, impedes the conduction of nerve signals from the brain to the rest of the body. As the myelin degrades, it causes severe physical disabilities."

"I'm sorry … did you say terminal? Can you explain that to me in english, I didn't understand most of what you just said." I interrupt again.

"Yes … the disease your son is suffering from is ultimately terminal. Garrett has begun to show signs of deterioration in his nervous system already." The doctor sighs, leaning his elbows on his desk. "This disease will begin to shut down Garretts organs, it will take away his mobility. He will be in severe pain. I'm so sorry to have to be the bearer of such horrendous news, our ultimate goal now is to keep Garrett as comfortable as possible."

My hands clench over my mouth as I bolt out of my seat and run to the trash can in the corner of the doctor's office. Dropping to my knees, I expel the coffee I had this morning.

"Bella … baby." Jasper places a hand on my back.

"Jasper … Oh my God … why?" I cry. "I don't understand." Jasper's tears are streaming down his cheeks as he looks back at me.

"Why is this happening … he can't … plea … please don't take him away." I beg.

"We'll find a way … he's gonna be fine … we'll find a way," Jasper repeats over and over again, enveloping me in his arms. Rocking us back and forth, we both cry for our son.

.

.

.

"What?!" Alice jumps up off the sofa and begins pacing the room. "Are they sure? You need to get a second opinion," she says. "How … I mean … I don't understand." She looks at me with tears in her eyes.

"We did Al. The doctors sent his blood work to a specialist in New York—they came back with the same results," Jasper informs her.

"Oh my God …" Alice whispers as she drops to her knees in front of me. Cradling my face in her hands, she looks me in the eyes, silently telling me she'll never leave me.

"I can't do this …" I whimper, tears running down my face as I look at my best friend.

"I know, sweets … I know," Alice murmurs as she hugs me.

I cling to my best friend for dear life.

.

.

.

As I lie in Alice's guest room, I hear whispers in the hallway. Jasper left to pick up Lily and Garrett from his mother's house. I insisted I go with him, desperate to see my babies, but Jasper asked I give him some time alone with them. It was the weekend, and exclusively for Jasper and his kids. He said he wants to spend as much with his son as possible.

"I don't give a fuck, Alice … I'm going in."

I know who it is before the door even opens. He's the last person I want to see. I don't want his comfort, only I don't have the strength to fight him. An arm reaches around my waist as the bed dips down. Edward lies behind me, pulling me close to his chest, and places an arm under my pillow. He leans into me, placing kisses behind my ear as he whispers how sorry he is.

"Why do I always seem to lose the people I love?" I whisper.

"We're all here, Angel, you haven't lost anybody." He speaks softly into my ear.

Tears well up in my eyes at his words. "No…I Iost you a long time ago. Then, Jasper's shit, and now I'm losing my baby boy. I can't lose him, Edward," I mumble through my tears. "He hasn't even really lived, yet. He's just a baby. Why him? Why not me, goddammit!" I scream, pounding my fists on the bed.

Edward's hold tightens around me. "Cry, Angel. Get angry, it's okay."

"Why are you even here?" I turn and push him away from me. "Why are you calling me that? You don't get to call me that anymore!" Him calling me Angel gets me even angrier—that was his name for me when we … I was a foolish teenager—when I thought he loved me as much as I love … loved him. "You shouldn't be here. I don't want you here." I slap his hands away.

"Angel, please. I know you're upset. Let me be here for you now," Edward pleads, reaching out for me.

"No, I don't want you here. I want to be alone. Just leave, Edward." I do want him here. I want his comfort. I want him to hold me. I just can't admit it. He left me … he left and never came back for me. I realize now that I never stopped loving him. I'm so angry. I'm angry that I'm losing my baby boy, and there's nothing I can do to save him. I would give my life just to know he'd live and love and experience all the beautiful things this world has to offer. I'm angry at Edward for forgetting about me, angry at Jasper for betraying me, angry at my father for the way he treated my mother.

"Bella, I deserve your anger, okay. I know what I did to you was fucked up. But now isn't the time to have this conversation." Edward reaches for my hand again. "You're hurting for your son, Angel … please let me be here for you."

"No … I. Don't. Want. You. Here." I look him in the eye, removing my hand from his grasp as I stand from the bed.

He grips just below my elbow before I'm able to take a step away. Yanking me back down on the bed, he pins my hands above my head.

"Edward! What the fuck?" I buck my hips, trying to get him off me.

Leaning into my face, he looks at me with sad and vulnerable eyes. "I'm so fucking sorry … I'm so fucking sorry, Angel," he mumbles as he kisses my lips. It's such a tender kiss, but shocks me to my core.

"I'm sorry I left you. If I have to apologize everyday day of my life to make things right between us, I will." He leans in to kiss me again, but I turn my head and he gets my cheek instead.

"Please … please don't," I beg. "I can't deal with you right now."

"Then don't think, baby. Just listen, close your eyes and listen." Edward ignores my plea's, skimming his nose along my cheek, placing small kisses just below my ear as he begins to hum a tune I don't recognize. Resting his cheek against mine, he softly begins to sing.

_"When your vision fades to black and white,_

_Cause your day hasn't gone quite right._

_Just remember I...am never far._

_It doesn't matter where you are_

_Just reach your hands into the night"_

"Edward, please … please stop," I plead.

_"Just because you're gone_

_It doesn't mean that I've moved on."_

Edward looks into my eyes as he sings the next lines.

_"I still love you just the same_

_I still crumble at your name"_

"Stop …" I choke out. Closing my eyes, I turn my head away from him. He releases my hands but doesn't move off me. His hands come down and wrap around the back of my neck, his thumbs rub along my jaw.

"Look at me, Angel," he says as he turns my head towards him.

_"I need you to be all right_

_I'm forever yours to hold_

_As long as I have life."_

_"When everything you know_

_Starts to let you down_

_And your world starts spinning 'round_

_I'll be the place...where you can sleep_

_Cause in my heart you will always be_

_More than a friend, more than time well spent_

_You showed me who I'm supposed to be_

_And that makes your deserving."_

Opening my eyes, my vision's blurry, yet I can see as clear as day. Edward's cheeks are marked with tear tracks. His lip quivers as he continues signing to me ever so softly.

_"As long as I breathe_

_As long as I need_

_As long as I'm me …_

_Oh I belong to you …"_

_"As long as I'm free_

_And as far as I see ..._

_If my heart still beats ..._

_Oh then it beats for you"_

_~oo0oo~_

**_December 10, 2009_**

I've had plenty of bad days in my life. Some I even thought were the worst days at the time. But nothing will compare to the day I lost my baby boy.

Garrett Anthony Whitlock was diagnosed with Krabbe Disease when he was seven months old.

Jasper and I were informed that Krabbe disease is inherited; since both Jasper and I are carriers of the Krabbe-causing gene mutations, there was at least twenty-five percent likelihood that any children we had would have Krabbe disease as well. Fortunately, Lily's blood tests revealed that she is simply a carrier of the disease.

It is estimated that Krabbe disease affects approximately 1 out of every 100,000-200,000 people worldwide. Approximately ninety percent of these cases are infantile Krabbe, in which symptoms begin before the age of one. These babies quickly stop developing normally and often die before the age of two. Garrett had a rapidly fatal form of the disease, challenging previous research.

He died just three months after his brain began deteriorating.

It was a gorgeous day. The sun was shining, and it was warm enough to spend a few hours in the back yard swinging with my Angel. He loved the sun. He was in so much pain his last few days, cringing every time he was touched, yet crying because he wanted to be held. On December tenth, after rapidly becoming paralyzed, and blind, I held my ten month old, beautiful baby boy as he took his last breath.

A mother should never have to experience that sort of pain. I could have died right alongside Garrett that day. I will never regret the time I had with my son. He's an angel that was sent down for me, even if it was just briefly. He was loved so much, he touched so many people's lives, we will never be the same because of him.

_~oo0oo~_

**_December 10, 2012_**

"Hi baby." I place Garrett's toy fire truck in front of his tombstone as I sit down on the grass.

"I can't believe so much time has passed since I last held you in my arms. I miss you so much, baby boy. Mama loves you so much. I miss your beautiful, blue eyes, that precious smile that could light up a room. I miss your chubby little fingers gripping my hand. I miss your hugs, your kisses … I just miss you." I whisper in the air as tears rolls down my cheek.

"I know you're in a better place, sweetheart, and you aren't suffering anymore. I thank God for that. I can feel you around me all the time. Are you watching us, baby? Your sister talks to you, I can hear her in her room at night. It's been hard for Lily, she misses her baby brother. She doesn't understand that not having you here with us means that you're at peace. That you're out their healthy and running around just like you were always meant to be, that you're smiling again.

Mama's finally smiling again, honey. I found someone who truly loves me, loves your sister. He makes us both happy, baby. I wish he could have met you. You would have loved him, and he would have adored you.

I actually grew up with him. He's aunt Ali's brother. His name is Edward. I will never forget about you, no matter who comes into my life. A mama's heart holds a special place for her children, a place no other human being can ever fill or take away. You will always be my baby boy. Mama will always love you.

There isn't a day that goes by I don't think of you, think of all the milestones you would have accomplished.

I'm so sorry I couldn't give you a healthy body. Sometimes I wonder … if I hadn't met your father, fallen in love with him … would you have had a healthy, normal life? But then, I wouldn't have had you or your sister. I would have never met you, fell in love with you, had you in my life. No matter how short that time was. You have made my life so much more meaningful—I would never trade one day I spent with you.

I love you Garrett …"

_~oo0oo~_

_I should have listened to Alice that night. I should have put on my best Sunday dress, curled my hair, and plastered my face with makeup. Maybe then I would have avoided the tsunami of pain that was going to crash into my life years later. But...can you really regret something—someone-when they gave you the reason for your existence?_

_~oo0oo~_

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed it, thank you for reading. _


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